One strategy David Chase uses so well is misdirection. We are frequently led to expect one event, only to learn that something different is in the blueprints.
A standout example: Johnny Sack gets involved in a mob war. He drives home to discover that the front door is open. The obvious conclusion is that an assassin is lurking, waiting; we're going to see a bloodbath. Instead, the truth emerges: Johnny's wife has left the door unlocked and scurried downstairs, to eat candy bars in private. The stress of mafia dealings has led her to overeat in secret; her public story is that the long-term effect of pregnancy has created her weight gain.
We also witness the simmering tension between Carmela and Furio. Surely, this will lead to shtupping; after all, Tony himself rarely resists temptation, hour after hour. Carmela uses her son as a pawn; dragging him along on a "Furio date" means that the event isn't really a date. Carmela dances passionately with Furio, in public; this seems like a prelude to an explosion, but in fact, it's just a dance. Carmela's virtuousness becomes exhausting, and she starts to think that she can extract "toll payments" from Tony; in her view, it's Tony who is causing her to suffer. Carmela steals cash from Tony, then leaves a remnant of Tony's mistress (a fingernail) on the bedside table. The nail is like an invoice. We watch Tony as he works subtly to understand what has happened to his money; if he pushes Carmela too hard, she might decide she wants to talk about marital fidelity. Once again, AJ is an innocent victim; he observes the weird behaviors of his parents and says, "I'm outta here. I'll be upstairs."
Twenty-five years after the "birth" of "The Sopranos," I can't think of a smarter, richer depiction of a TV marriage. (Sorry, "Friday Night Lights.")
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